


A Question Of Identity

by daxcat79



Series: Avenger's Identity [1]
Category: Bourne Legacy (2012), The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crossover, Drama, F/M, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-29
Updated: 2012-11-29
Packaged: 2017-11-19 20:16:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/577232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daxcat79/pseuds/daxcat79
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He wears each identity like clothes he can put on and off, but it makes it just a bit harder to remember who he really is anymore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Question Of Identity

**Author's Note:**

> Anything in italics is a flashback. Anything in bold is over the comm. I will be posting a sequel to this story.

Disclaimer: I don't own either of these movies or the characters. I just use them for my own amusement....

The worst part about being controlled by Loki wasn’t the fact that he forgot who he was. There was nothing to forget. He pulled out the brain of an incomplete man and just made the pieces that much harder to identify. It was haunting to know the damage he could cause, but Natasha was right. He hadn’t been in control. He couldn’t do that to himself. He wouldn’t do that to himself. The worst part about the whole thing was the realization that he could still be used in other people’s games. Sometimes he wouldn’t have a choice, because things like that could be taken away with one touch. So what did that leave him? What could he possibly hold onto as his?

The others, they had a history, even Natasha. It may have been dark, or filled with pain, but it was theirs. They knew where they came from. So many times he’d heard Natasha talk about the broken memories she worked so hard to piece together. She struggled with how many times she’d been pulled apart and pieced back together, but despite those cracks she was still whole. She had a name, a background, a whole culture she could identify as fundamentally hers. What did he have? Just broken memories and identities to use up and throw away so he wouldn’t have to run anymore.

_“Listen Aaron, as far as the world is concerned you don’t exist, and you never did. There are powerful people that want you dead, and if I were a fool I’d let them have their way.”_

_“Are you a fool, Director Fury?”_

_“Maybe, but not for the reason you’re thinking….”_

The only thing he’s ever had to hold onto was his first memory of picking up a bow. There was something pleasant about the weight of it in his hands. Guns were messy, but necessary in their own way. Holding a bow and arrow was like choosing a part of himself he’d never known existed. He liked it. He liked how tangible it was. It was real and solid, and made him who he was. It made him feel unique. He’d always been good with long range weapons. He was deadly with a sniper rifle. He was even better with a bow. He became Hawkeye; perhaps the only name he could truly profess was his.

**“It was fine when all SHIELD wanted was Iron Man. I could live with that. Tony Stark, on the other hand, does not enjoy being manipulated like this,”** Clint heard through the comms, and smiled. He’d found a nice nest on the building nearby to keep a watchful eye on Natasha as she repelled down the building they were targeting. There was a party going on inside, and they each had a part to play.

**“Would you like to be hanging from a building instead?”** questioned Natasha with a grunt, and he could only imagine how uncomfortable she felt being dangled from such heights with only Captain America keeping tabs on her.

He tried not to feel smug about his own assignment. While the team went off and did they’re thing all he ever needed to do was watch. It was an easy job. Once his targets were identified, they were as good as dead. Two men had already walked in on the Captain, and dropped just before they could reach for their guns. Clint really loved his job. **“Guys, how about we all agree this isn’t fun for anyone and just try to get this over with, what do you say?”** said Rogers, always the peacemaker.

**“Actually, I’m quite comfortable…”** Clint pointed out with a mischievous smirk that no one could see.

He watched Natasha turn her head around just as she’d secured herself at the window they needed, and took a moment to send a glare his way. He laughed quietly, because he was pretty sure she’d make him pay later for having the easiest task of them all. The job seemed simple enough, though application was another thing entirely. While Tony portrayed the most charming of guests, he planted tech to hack into the mainframe computer of Hammer Industries, recently taken over by agents of HYDRA since Jason Hammer’s imprisonment. It was Natasha who needed to break into the most secured room of the building (which weren’t quite as secure from the outside) and steal the rest of the files that Stark couldn’t get to. Captain America kept her alive, and Barton monitored all communications and shot anything that moved. It was all so simple, a little too simple for Clint to truly relax.

**“Okay, download is complete. Natasha, it’s all on you,”** Stark reported before someone called his name, just a whisper through the comms.

Natasha was busy cutting open the glass. She was almost finished when she removed the round piece and secured it against the building before slipping inside. **“She’s in, Rogers, give her some slack,”** said Clint. He couldn’t see through the glass, but SHIELD had given him glasses that detected heat signatures. He knew exactly what everyone was up to. Natasha would be able to do her work knowing he was watching her back. All seemed to be going well until he heard a word that he’d long ago tried to forget.

**“What the hell is this? Tony, something isn’t right. There’s ghost file in the program… something called Treadstone… beta testing results?”** said Natasha and his blood went cold.

**“Never heard of it. Open it.”**

Damn. **“No! Download it and erase the files!”** He knew he didn’t sound like himself. Why would HYDRA have that file? Did they know about the whole program, did they know about him?

**“Barton, are you crazy?! Fury said-”**

He interrupted Natasha because there was no time to argue. **“Fury will understand! I know that name, and any information on that file needs to be erased immediately. Do you copy? Natasha… erase the file!”** It was a low blow to use her name in that pleading voice he’d use when they were alone. It usually signaled a serious conversation or the reveal of something intimate and just for them. He had no choice.

Silence.

**“Hawkeye… what is Treadstone?”** asked the Captain.

**“That information is classified.”** For the first time since the Avengers became a team he felt like he was truly playing on the opposing side… that included his time under Loki’s control. He had no choice. There were some things better left buried.

**“Now you sound like Fury,”** spat Tony in annoyance. **“Let me guess, more guns to wipe out humanity?”**

Clint only wished it was that simple. **“Natasha… report.”**

**“Download complete. Inserted the virus to wipe out all ghost files. I’m done here.”** Her voice was cold, removed of all emotion, and the shiver down his spine told him all he needed to know. She’d looked at the file. He was sure of it.

*~*~*

Kenneth J. Kitsom was a hopeless fool. The shame he felt even uttering the name twisted at his insides, and it was easy to forget that man had once been him. Kitsom was a stranger, a quiet ghost, and barely a memory worthy of his time. He had no family or friends. It was what had made Clint perfect for the program. There was no one to miss him. _He_ didn’t even miss him. Kenneth’s story wasn’t worth telling, because there was no story to give. He may as well have been a bum on the street. A face in a crowded room. It didn’t bother Clint that he could barely remember that person. He never wanted to remember him again.

Aaron Cross was a different fool altogether. It was never that he asked too many questions. His problem was he’d never asked the _right_ questions. He was a bolt of lightning, brief but terrifying. His desperation to survive when the world wanted him silenced was certainly special, but it was dumb luck that had kept him alive while others in the program dropped like flies. Number five. He was just a number. He was a story. He was a whisper in a rainstorm. No one would ever understand what that name meant, and any who did were quickly killed off. The Grim Reaper should hire him as an assistant with how many lives were extinguished because of that name. He remembered that person clearly… whether he wanted to or not.

Clint Barton was the fool he’d currently become. It was simple and easy. People cared about this person. He was confident and strong. He was afraid of nothing. His past was somewhat dark, but so utterly absurd it only made him that much more believable. He lived freely with that name, and it had served him well. It was given to him as a gift, and he’d never once looked back. It gave him purpose. What more could he ask for? So many names… so many stories to keep up with. He wore each like clothes he could pull on and throw off. He was naked underneath, a blank slate… he needed an identity to keep him warm.

“How did HYDRA get a hold of my files?”

Nick was staring out the window looking very concerned. “I wish I knew.”

“Nick…” he paused, unsure what to say. Eventually the director turned to look at him, probably seeing the fear in Clint’s eyes. “How bad?”

“I guess we’ll know soon enough. In the meantime, I think you should keep a low profile. It’s possible Clint Barton may have to disappear.”

Was that it? Was that always the answer? Another name? Clint nodded, and exited Fury’s office, cursing under his breath. He needed to talk to Bobbi. No… he needed to talk to Marta.

*~*~*

“You can’t be serious.”

SHIELD knew her as Barbara Morse, Clint Barton’s ex-wife, and an agent. She worked a few floors down in Banner’s department. The chems put in his system were just the tip of the iceberg. It started with Captain America. The grand idea to create a super soldier and assassin. Banner had tried something similar and ended up turning himself into the Hulk. He supposed he should be lucky he’d just had to deal with a ‘mysterious flu.’ It didn’t change the fact that science was power, and between brilliant minds like Stark and Banner, that power was currently in SHIELD’s back pocket… sort of. “Bobbi, it’s never going to end. If they know about me… they probably know about you too.”

She was just as beautiful as the day he’d first met her. She’d abused him pretty bad back then with needles and medical tests he couldn’t pronounce. He was a glutton for punishment. “So what? You want to leave SHIELD now? Go on the run? Manila… I bet it’s nice this time of year.”

She’d gotten a little snarky since their divorce. “I don’t know… okay? I’m just trying to look out for you.”

She knew just as he did that sometimes it was hard to move on. He would always feel responsible for her. She took his hand for a minute, for old time’s sake, and her thumb stroked the back of his hand. He squeezed her hand back, and he wondered what they would have been like if they could have made it work. He was just glad they’d managed to keep their friendship alive. “You don’t have to do that anymore, okay? I’m a big girl now.” Her smile was warm, and free of the fear he’d once seen when she’d been holding a gun without bullets, and repeatedly squeezing the trigger. They’d come so far.

It was amazing what a few years working for SHIELD could do for a person, but even though Marta was dead she still had something to hold onto. She still had a history that kept her grounded and clear-headed. He envied her. “Okay… okay, Bobbi. Just be careful… please?”

She nodded and kissed his cheek. “You too.”

*~*~*

When he joined SHIELD he was given a name and a file. That was it. He was no longer Aaron Cross. That was the moment he became Clint Barton. He had this whole history to memorize, but it wasn’t that simple. This identity would become a part of him. He spent so many nights wondering who Clint was. Clint’s life wasn’t exactly ‘picture perfect’ which suited him just fine, but he didn’t know this person… just a name and a file. His story was told as coldly as possible, a collection of facts and numbers. If this was going to be _him_ he needed so much more.

He added to the file. It was just notes at first. They made the claim that he learned his fighting skills in the circus, but it was him who added his specialty with the bow. They mentioned parents killed in a crash because the father was driving drunk… Clint made him an alcoholic… abusive too. It fit him pretty well. The file stated that he had a brother Barney… Clint guessed they had a falling out, and he hadn’t seen him for a very long time. He was probably dead. The file grew thick with time, like a story book and he was the writer. He could be anything he wanted to be. He could be creative… reinvent himself. Eventually Clint Barton wasn’t a file and a name… he was a man… and so much more than that.

_“You don’t call me Marta anymore.”_

_“You haven’t called me Aaron in months.”_

_“That’s because you’re not Aaron… not anymore.”_

_“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”_

_“I wish I knew….”_

“Natasha!” She walked past him as if he didn’t even exist. He was so lost in thought he’d barely noticed her, but she’d brushed his shoulder and brought him back. He turned around, but she wouldn’t look at him. “You looked at the file.”

“You lied to me.”

“I had no choice.”

Natasha finally met his gaze. “Are you sure about that? Seems to me if people knew who you really were there’d be a lot of powerful people who’d want you dead-”

“And anyone who knows the truth,” he added, because she needed to understand. He just wanted her safe. He needed her safe. He couldn’t protect Bobbi anymore. She wasn’t his to protect, but there was no way he’d drag Natasha into that world. “I was protecting you.”

Two steps forward and she was invading his space. She didn’t look very touched with his sacrifice. “You were protecting yourself. You didn’t trust me.”

“I trust you with my life.”

“Whose life?!” she snapped, and her voice almost echoed in the empty corridor. “Clint Barton’s life? Aaron Cross’s life? Exactly whose life do you trust me with?”

He can’t answer that. She knew it just as he did. He doesn’t say a word, and she doesn’t stay.

*~*~*

“From what we can tell, it looks like we got to the files in time… but there may still be people who know your secret, Clint. You have to be careful.”

Clint knew Fury was worried about him, but he’d faced down an alien army with the Avengers… he could handle this. Barton was tired of hiding. “I’m touched, Nick… you’re worried for me?”

Even with one eye he could still glare with the best of them. “You’re one of my best agents, Barton. I’d prefer you alive.”

SHIELD wouldn’t be able to protect him. His existence was still a threat to those who wanted to keep the beta program buried. However he refused to live a life watching his back all the time. They could come after him, he welcomed them to come, but they wouldn’t be taking him down without a fight. “Then I guess it’s good I’m ready for them.”

Fury’s lips curled. “I’m sure the Avengers would be happy to watch your back.”

Clint shrugged, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I don’t doubt it.” Steve Rogers was the most loyal son of a bitch he’d ever met. He left Fury’s office with a nod. He’d never actually fooled himself into believing he would ever be free of his past. He just hoped he hadn’t completely screwed up his future. Walking away he felt more and more like a dead man. He was good at feigning cockiness. It didn’t matter if he was in over his head, because he sure as hell wouldn’t let anyone else see it. The fact was Fury was talking bull and he knew it. HYDRA had his files, and there was no way their plans for that information was pure.

*~*~*

_He could feel his mind drift. He tried to fight it, desperately knocking back another blue pill and praying it would be enough to keep him focused. He could ration as much as he wanted, but it didn’t change the fact that he was running out. He was losing it. He wouldn’t make it like this. Marta was depending on him, but he’d never last like this. “Aaron?”_

_“Huh?” And he just knew; saw the worry in her eyes. They’d come too far. He couldn’t lose it now. He had to hold on just a little bit longer. Their lives depended on it._

No more need for chems. Marta (now Bobbi) injected him with the virus that would kill Kenneth Kitsom for good. It didn’t bother him that his desperation had so closely mimicked that of an addict. Hell of a way to fall. Not many could understand what it was like. He didn’t fear death. He faced it every day. It was being pulled back down to the life he so despised that really kept him up at night. He couldn’t live that way again. It was like a dog seeing in color for the first time in his life, and then being forced back to black and white. This mind he’d been given was his greatest weapon, his saving grace.

The thing was there was something else he realized he couldn’t live without. He just hoped he could get her to forgive him. Screw it, when had he ever let that stop him before?

*~*~*

He could feel her glare burning his flesh the moment she opened the door, but he considered it a win when she didn’t immediately slam it shut. “Kenneth Kitsom.”

“Excuse me?”

“That was my name. I joined the US Army the moment I was old enough, only I never should have been accepted because I had a very low intelligence… twelve points below the cutoff point. The recruiter needed to make his quota. Once I was accepted into the beta program it became more difficult to remember much about… who I was. I get flashes of my old life, but not much more than that. I’m not really that eager to remember anyway. The reason I didn’t tell you was because I’m not Kenneth and I’m not Aaron… at least not anymore.”

She lifted a single eyebrow, and it occurred to him that it’s probably the most he’s ever told her about himself… that was actually true. “Would you like to come in, or continue to make a fool of yourself in the hallway?”

He walked past her with a sigh and watched her close the door behind him. Her quarters on base were nothing more than a bed and a bedside table for her books. He took a seat on her bed, and looked up at her. Natasha was staring back at him, still as stoic as he’d ever seen her. It would take time for him to break through the wall she’d recently built. “I may be in danger.” He knew she’d see right through him, but it was worth it to see her smile.

“Oh don’t worry, I probably won’t shoot you,” she assured him as she took a seat beside him.

He laughed, but his smile didn’t last long. “I didn’t want you to know about Kenneth or Aaron.”

“You act like they’re completely different people.”

“In a strange way… they are. Like Natalia and Natalie.”

“That’s different.”

He turned to look at her. “To me it’s not. I don’t have a past, Natasha. I only have now. This is it. This is me.”

Natasha’s eyes narrowed as she looked back at him. “You don’t have a brother and you were never in the circus… I suppose I should have known. That story always did seem a bit ridiculous.”

Clint shrugged. “Don’t look at me. Fury’s the genius who created Clint Barton. He’s got a twisted sense of humor.”

“So what now?”

That was always the question that bothered him most. It had been bothering him all his life, because he could never seem to come up with an answer. Or perhaps he was more worried about how she’d react? He dropped his head in his hands in an effort to stall for time. He was so tired of it. They kept pretending like they were just friends, but he was seconds away from buying flowers and chocolate to apologize. She was angry at him for not being honest, but they weren’t lovers. They were barely partners. Yet there was betrayal in her eyes regardless, and he still felt like shit.

He hadn’t felt this way since he was Aaron falling for Marta… but that was in another life. They’d both moved on. It was different with Natasha. Their lives had never been forced to intertwine. It was a choice… hers and his. He chose not to kill her, and she chose to trust him. It was like the bow and arrow all over again. She made him feel unique. She made him feel anchored to something. He wasn’t just an identity to her. He was Clint Barton… the man who loved her. 

“I wish I knew.” He was still lying to her. He couldn’t seem to stop.

“Tell me something about you… something true.” It was strange demand coming from Natasha Romanoff, but that’s what he liked best about her. Even now, she could still surprise him.

It felt like she was offering him a chance, but he knew if he opened his mouth he’d just spit out another lie. It was his conditioning. He was trained to lie. Clint didn’t want to lie to her. Natasha meant too much to him, and he knew she would see right through it. He wasn’t the only one trained for this. He did the only honest thing he could think of. He kissed her.

The End


End file.
